


Alliance

by 00AwkwardPenguin00



Series: Dragon of the Yuyan [9]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (apologies to @maychorian for stealing her blog title), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I'm a little gen sailboat and like it that way, Katara is conflicted, Sokka is a nerd, Sokka needs more sleep, THIS IS THE ONE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, Zuko loves animals, Zuko meets the Gaang, anyway, but it is EXTREMELY relevant, dammit Aang stop picking up strays, do I need to keep using that tag? it's pretty obvious at this point, in case I haven't said it before: THIS SERIES WILL NOT CONTAIN ROMANTIC SHIPS, introductions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00AwkwardPenguin00/pseuds/00AwkwardPenguin00
Summary: Sokka and Katara are confronted with the idea that not everyone in the Fire Nation wants to destroy the world.Tui and La, Aang, stop picking up strays!
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Dragon of the Yuyan [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582384
Comments: 378
Kudos: 4903
Collections: Finished111





	1. the warrior

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/gifts).



> THIS IS IT, FOLKS! The one you've been waiting for!

Sokka wakes up to a frog in his mouth, a rather urgent need for some kind of bathing facility, and a grumbling stomach.

First order of business is spitting out the frog, which is slimy and wriggling and actually kind of chilly on his tongue, and he does so with alacrity and great gusto and a noise of disgust. He can hear Katara's equally disgusted shriek beside him, on the other side of Appa's leg, and then both of them are gagging and groaning and spitting, and Sokka is not at all ashamed to admit that he tries to wipe his tongue on Appa's fur which. WOW. Now his mouth tastes like scummy pond water _and_ skanky bison leg fur, which was not a combination Sokka ever needed in his life.

Next is wriggling out of his nasty sleeping bag, which is still a bit damp with fever sweat and smells like his socks. Man, Katara's going to _hate_ laundry day this week. He still feels a bit wrung out and shaky, but the fever itself is gone and he's more clear-headed than he's been in at least two days, which is a major relief. He stumbles down Appa's side, stretches and glories in the fact that he's not achy anymore, and shuffles over to the farthest corner he can find for a potty break.

He ambles back, intent on some breakfast, when he realizes that sometime between slipping into fever delirium and waking up with a frog in his mouth they had gained another person.

Sokka stares at him (the close-fitting black clothes made it kind of obvious that it was a _him_ and not a _her_ , but if their addition said otherwise he'd go with it), slumped sitting up against the wall facing the room's opening, and opens his mouth to demand that the guy tell them _what in Tui's name he's doing here_ when Katara totters over.

"Who's that?" She whispers.

"Dunno, maybe Aang's picked up another stray?" Sokka grumbles. His stomach chooses that moment to growl _super_ loudly, and he decides to deal with this _after_ breakfast. Katara rolls her eyes at him, but obligingly unpacks some jerky that they nibble on together.

Over on Appa's tail, Aang snores, while over against the wall, the guy in black sleeps silently.

"We need to bathe, and wash our clothes and sleeping bags," Katara says when they're finished, and Sokka would complain but he feels _really_ gross, so they tell Appa to keep an eye on Aang and the guy in black and head down to find a stream.

They wash the sleeping bags first, because they'll take the longest to dry, then Sokka bathes while Katara washes his clothes so that he can be ready to guard while she's bathing.

By the time Katara's dressed and fixing her hair, Aang has stumbled down the hillside and dunked his head entirely into the stream. On his heels is the guy in black, rubbing his head with a grimace. He's tall, topping Sokka by at least two or three inches, and lean, but in no way scrawny. Sokka is seriously jealous of the muscles he can see under the snug black clothes. He’s got a scabbard strapped to his back, with a sword hilt poking up behind his left shoulder. His black hair is tied back, showing off the gnarly burn scar over his left eye and the impressive black bruise on his forehead. He’s pale, paler than Aang, and his eyes are gold.

Wait.

_Gold eyes._

“You’re Fire Nation!” Sokka snarls, drawing his jaw blade and boomerang and dropping into a fighting stance.

“Sokka, wait!” Aang yelps, dropping in front of him and holding up his hands. Behind him, Sokka can hear water flowing as Katara prepares to bend.

“Aang, get away from him!” Sokka growls. Tui damn it, this kid is going to get all of them _killed_ someday.

“Sokka, listen to me! He _saved_ me! These archers captured me while I was getting medicine for you guys, and they took me to this _huge_ prison-fortress-thing, and this guy got me out!” Aang says all of this in a single breath, and it’s driving Sokka absolutely crazy that the airbender has his back to the Fire Nation scum, but all the guy in black is doing is staring at Sokka, or rather, Sokka’s _boomerang_ , with a kind of concerned fascination on his face. He’s not even in any kind of combat stance, and seriously, who carries a sword and _doesn’t draw it_ when confronted with a threatening stranger?

He hears a splash and a curious “Really?” behind him, and it takes all of his warrior strength not to groan. The fastest way to Katara’s heart is to do something to protect Aang, and yep, there she goes, walking around Sokka like he’s a tree in her way and going right up to the Fire Nation jerk.

“Hi, I’m Katara, and that’s my paranoid brother, Sokka,” she says. “That’s a really nasty bruise, are you okay? What’s your name?”

The guy in black actually _bows_ , his hands making a weird gesture, and the smile on his face is kind of… Sokka almost wants to say _shy_ , but that can’t be right, Fire Nation scum aren’t _shy_ , how could they be when they’re going all over the world wreaking havoc and setting everything on fire?

“Uh, I don’t think he actually talks,” Aang says, as the guy in black takes off his sword and pulls a tiny knife out from somewhere on his body. Sokka’s alarmed yelp dies in his throat as the guy kneels down and starts scratching characters in the dirt at their feet.

_My name is Zuko. I was a cadet in the Fire Nation’s Yuyan Archers, which is a special forces division, but I deserted when Admiral Zhao captured the Avatar. I would like to join the Avatar on their mission to restore balance to the world._

“Okay, assuming that all of that’s true, why would a Fire Nation soldier just up and decide _hey, seems like a nice day to decide to betray my people and my country, guess I’ll go join the Avatar_!” Sokka drawls, trying not to think about how much of a headache this situation is giving him. He ignores his sister’s scolding “Sokka!” and crosses his arms over his chest, not letting go of his weapons.

The Fire Nation soldier in question sighs silently and starts writing again. _I know it’s hard to believe, but this war is just as bad for the Fire Nation as it is for the rest of the world. The bloodlust of the last three Fire Lords has infected the people, and the current heir to the throne would rule over a pile of ashes before she ever considers what’s best for the Nation. I want to help the Avatar set my people free from that tyranny before they destroy the entire world._

Sokka has to admit, it’s really refreshing to be having an actual civil conversation with someone from the Fire Nation. And if he’s completely honest, he may be fighting a losing battle trying to keep the guy out of the group. Aang’s completely starry-eyed over him, and Katara looks like she’s ready to fuss over that bruise on his noggin at any moment.

“How do I know you’re not going to sell us out?” He demands. Katara’s scolding repetition of his name sounds even more annoyed than before, and Aang’s giving him his patented _how could you assume something like that_ look, but Sokka’s the oldest, and it’s his job to think about these things, to keep his sister and the world’s last hope alive and as _safe_ as possible. The Fire Nation jerk looks like he wants to glare, but there’s some grudging respect in those gold-yellow eyes.

_If I'd wanted to sell you out, I wouldn’t have gone to all of the trouble of breaking the Avatar out of one of the most secure Fire Nation prisons outside the Home Islands_ , he scribbles, and Sokka has to concede the point. _I’m a traitor to the Fire Nation now, and just as likely to be taken prisoner and executed for treason as you would be if you’re captured. More so, even, since I betrayed my Nation rather than just being an enemy combatant on the other side. I show my face anywhere around a Fire Nation outpost, I’m as good as dead where I stand._

Sokka’s still suspicious, but there’s really no argument he can make to that, so he just groans and puts away his weapons. “Fine, you can come with us on a probationary basis! Put one toe out of line, and I’ll gut you where you stand!”

The jerk looks distinctly amused, an annoying little smirk crossing his face like he’d love to see Sokka try, while Aang looks absolutely scandalized and Katara rolls her eyes.

_I need to meet up with a contact before we move out of the area_ , Zuko writes. _He’s hanging on to some supplies for me._

Oh that’s not suspicious at all, and Sokka immediately demands, “I’m coming with. Katara, get Appa packed up. Aang, give me the bison whistle. We’ll wait for the jerk’s contact to leave and then we’ll signal Appa to pick us up.”

The jerk and Katara roll their eyes in unison, and no, that’s not creepy at all, while Aang chirps an agreeable “Okay Sokka!” and hands over the bison whistle. Zuko brushes some dirt off of the knife he’d been using to write and then disappears it somewhere on his person, and slings his sword onto his back again. He turns to Aang and makes a gesture over his face with his hands, like he’s placing something on his face.

“Huh… oh, your mask? Do you want us to pack it for you?” Aang asks. Zuko nods, and makes another gesture with the fingertips of one hand over his mouth, tipping them open-handed toward Aang with a grateful smile.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

Zuko grins fully at that, and gestures in a _come on_ sort of way to Sokka.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, jerk,” Sokka grumbles, falling into step next to him “So, you don’t talk out loud, huh?”

Zuko shakes his head. He holds up his hands, and makes some very deliberate-looking gestures.

“You use your hands to talk?” That’s actually pretty cool, and Sokka immediately wants to learn. His head is already spinning with ideas on how to utilize a silent language.

Zuko nods, grinning. He points to himself, then holds his left hand in front of his left eye, the one with the huge scar that Sokka is dying to ask about, positioning it with the palm facing his eye and fingers wiggling. Then he makes four slow, distinct gestures with his right hand.

Sokka frowns, trying to puzzle it out. He’d pointed to himself, so he’s talking about himself? Then the gesture over the scar… Sokka doubts he’d be so friendly-looking if he was talking about the scar itself, but it’s a pretty distinctive feature, so maybe the gesture is representative? Then what were the fingers all about? Wait, representative… maybe the gesture is his name? In his gesture language? And then the four gestures after were how it’s spelled? Sokka doesn’t really get how “Zuko” could be spelled with two characters in Common calligraphy and four gestures in whatever hand language Zuko uses, but he puts it down to translation differences.

“Is that your name? Zuko?” Sokka asks, and Zuko nods firmly with a truly brilliant grin. He makes the four gestures that spell his name again, pushes his hands together like he’s pressing something between them, and then makes the wriggly finger gesture over his scar again.

“Is it faster to make one gesture than it is to make four?” Sokka asks, because that second gesture had looked a lot like shrinking something down. “So this little wiggly fingers thing—“ he makes the gesture over his own left eye and ignores the way that Zuko’s very obviously trying not to laugh at him, that jerk “—is a sort of shorthand for your name? Like a nickname?”

Zuko shrugs, nods, and makes a sort of see-sawing gesture with his hand all at the same time, which Sokka takes as _yeah, more or less_.

They continue hiking and chatting, if one can call Sokka asking tons of yes or no questions that Zuko answers with a nod or a shake of his head _chatting_.

They finally stop at a completely random point in the woods, Zuko holding one arm out to make Sokka stop and putting the opposite pointer finger to his lips for quiet. Then he tugs off one of his gloves and snaps his fingers three times in quick succession, so hard and loud that Sokka’s almost afraid they’ll break off at the knuckles.

They wait in complete silence for at least five minutes, Zuko tense and watchful like a hunting polar dog waiting for the signal to track. Then he snaps his fingers again, three times in rapid succession, and waits another five minutes.

They wait in that one spot for an hour, with Zuko giving his snapping signal every five minutes which rapidly gets on Sokka’s nerves. But as Zuko’s expression grows more worried and desperate with every five minutes that pass, Sokka can’t find the heart to make the jerk cut it out.

Zuko ends up stopping at the hour mark, anyway, with a silent, defeated sigh that seems to make him shrink despite not changing size.

“Hey, I’m sorry your buddy didn’t show up, man,” Sokka says quietly. Zuko just shrugs, but his single dark eyebrow is furrowed. The former soldier steps silently up to and around a massive tree, and Sokka follows him without a word.

Turns out the tree is hollow, with a little hidden gap that’s about as wide as Sokka’s shoulders, and inside are several wrapped packages, a dull brown rucksack positively stuffed full, a truly _badass_ looking recurve bow and an accompanying quiver of arrows, and a scroll.

Zuko ignores everything else and snatches up the scroll, unrolling it hurriedly and scanning the contents. His lips press together in a thin line, and he closes his eyes for a moment, visibly pulling himself together. Then he holds the scroll out to Sokka.

“You want me to read it?” Sokka asks, kind of shocked. Whoever this contact is, they clearly meant a lot to Zuko, and Sokka, who will admit to being super nosy on occasion, feels kinda squirmy in his gut at the thought of reading something that could be really personal to the guy who saved Aang from Admiral Muttonchops. But Zuko just nods, stone-faced, so Sokka takes the scroll and unrolls it as Zuko whips around and starts doing stuff with the stuff.

_Zuko—_

_Sorry to have to bail like this, but the moment he realized that you and the Avatar had gotten away, Zhao went kind of nuts and started trying to arrest the guards you two beat up for treason, so we had to bug out a lot faster and a lot earlier than planned. Don’t worry about us, just focus on keeping the Avatar safe. We’ll meet again, promise._

_Your brother,_

_Kai_

_PS: don’t forget that cool Pai Sho trick Doc showed you!_

Well now Sokka feels like an asshole for being so suspicious. He rolls the scroll back up and pokes Zuko in the arm with it until he looks up from whatever it is he’s doing with the rucksack. The former soldier takes it and tucks it into his belt, then shrugs the rucksack onto his back over the sword and slings the quiver, with bow tucked neatly inside, from one shoulder. At his feet rests a bulging sack, and Sokka realizes that it’s filled with the packages.

“So, ready to head out?” Sokka asks, pulling the bison whistle out of his belt pouch. Zuko nods, and Sokka blows the whistle as hard as he can. The expression of complete bafflement on Zuko’s face as he does makes Sokka’s day.

“I dunno how it works exactly, but somehow Appa, Aang’s flying bison, can hear the sound this thing makes from miles away,” Sokka explains when he gets his breath back. “But humans can’t hear it at all, so it’s great for calling Appa on the sly.”

Zuko nods, then points at Sokka’s shoulder with a question on his face.

“Huh?” Sokka glances over his shoulder, but there’s nothing behind him. Nothing but Boomerang, strapped securely to his back in it’s sheath. Wait a second—

“This?” Sokka asks, pulling out Boomerang. Zuko’s eyes go huge. “This is Boomerang, the best weapon in the entire world! My dad made it for me and taught me how to use it.” Zuko nods, not taking his eyes off the blue-painted metal. His face is full of questions, but before he can try to write anything, a thunderous bellow echoes from above the trees, signaling Appa’s arrival. Sokka slips Boomerang back into it’s sheath. “I’ll show you how it works when we make camp tonight. For now, want me to take that?” He waves at the sack at Zuko’s feet.

Zuko shrugs, and hands over the sack, which nearly pulls Sokka’s arms off.

“ _Tui_ and La!” Sokka yelps, in a very manly way, thank you very much. “What have you even got in here, rocks?”

Zuko makes a gesture like he’s putting something in his mouth.

“Food?” Sokka guesses. Zuko nods. “Great! Between this and hunting, we shouldn’t need to buy food for a while! Thanks, man!”

Zuko shoots him a pleased smile and a thumbs-up as Appa sweeps in to land beside the hollow tree. The former soldier’s expression goes completely besotted at the sight of the giant fluffy monster, and with a shock like freezing water down his shirt, Sokka realizes that this man can’t be more than a year or two older than himself. He’s a kid, just like Aang and Katara and him. Sokka has no doubt that Zuko knows how to kill in a variety of interesting and painful ways, but if he was actually interested in that kind of thing he wouldn’t have switched sides, right?

Sokka shimmies up Appa’s side to the saddle as Zuko strides straight up to Appa’s nose. He can hear Aang introducing the new passenger to the bison, and the telltale slurp of the massive droolly tongue as the giant furry monster treats Zuko to his own version of a greeting, and he grins at the abject alarm on Zuko’s face as Aang airbends the drool away and flings him into the saddle with a flick of his staff.

They take off, soaring into the sky and over the mountains, and Sokka has just closed his eyes for a nap when he smells something burning and hears Katara’s voice demand shrilly “you’re a _FIREBENDER_?”


	2. the waterbender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Last time:**
> 
> _Sokka has just closed his eyes for a nap when he smells something burning and hears Katara’s voice demand shrilly “you’re a **FIREBENDER?”**_

Katara can’t believe she’d fallen for this. The stranger they’d woken up to in their camp, who is so polite and had saved Aang and could say so much without saying a single word out loud, is a _firebender_. He’s holding a half-burned scroll in one hand, and a handful of flames in the other, and is staring at Katara with wide, startled gold eyes. Like he hadn’t thought that they might have a _problem_ with firebending.

“Zuko, what are you doing?” Aang asks, in a tone far too jovial and curious for Katara’s taste.

“Is that the note your brother left with your stuff?” Surprisingly, Katara’s paranoid brother doesn’t seem at all phased by the _spirits-damned firebender_ sitting less than two feet away. Did he get brainwashed somehow while he and the _ash-maker_ were alone together?

The firebender nods, and continues burning the scroll until the ashes are blown away on the wind. Katara watches carefully, thumb on the cork of her waterskin in case of emergency, but the firebender never lets the flame grow any bigger than his palm, keeps a tight, effortless-looking control, and then when he’s done, puts it out as easily as Katara would blow out a lamp.

“Are you a Master?” Aang asks, awed, and Katara wants to scream at him _don’t trust the firebenders all they do is destroy_ but Gran-Gran’s stories are clear: the Avatar must learn all four elements in order to be fully realized. Aang, specifically, has to do it by the end of the summer, according to Avatar Roku. Like it or not, Aang has to learn firebending, and the only way to do that is from a Master Firebender.

The firebender nods, and makes a gesture with his hands like he’s scribbling a note.

“Sorry, we don’t have any writing materials,” Katara says flatly. It’s a bald-faced lie, one that Sokka immediately calls her on with a hard look and a rougher-than-necessary dig through their supplies for a blank scroll and a stick of charcoal. And Katara knows she’s being a brat, but she doesn’t care right now, she wants some time to sulk and be difficult before she has to think about the idea that even a _firebender_ could reach his limit for death and destruction.

The firebender takes the scroll and charcoal with a grateful smile for Sokka and a quizzical glance at her, which she ignores in favor of digging through the huge heavy sack that had come with their new addition. Judging by the Fire Nation insignia stamped on every container, it’s filled with Fire Nation Army camp rations, which seem to consist mostly of dry noodles, some kind of jerky (what a shock), and little paper packets. When she opens one of the packets, the contents make her sneeze. There’s also a ridiculous amount of dried tea leaves pressed into a massive brick, and Katara can’t imagine drinking that much tea in her entire _lifetime_.

“Oh, can I read it out loud?” Aang asks suddenly. “Okay! _I became a Firebending Master on my sixteenth birthday this past fall._ Hey, my birthday’s in the fall too! Oh, here you go!”

There’s rustling, but Katara refuses to look up from the mending she’s taken out to work on. She wants some time to think, and when she’s sewing the boys mostly leave her alone.

“ _What are your preferred pronouns?_ Uh, I’m a boy, so he/him?”

“Wait, why would you assume otherwise?” Sokka asks, and he sounds actually curious instead of insulting, which never would have happened before leaving the South Pole. “ _Manners_? Really? Get that look off your face, Jerkbender, we have manners in the South Pole. Whatever, I’m gonna take a nap, don’t set fire to the saddle while we’re all in it.”

Momo purrs suddenly, and Katara tenses in preparation for the lemur jumping into her lap and ruining her work. But instead she hears a sharp, nearly silent intake of breath, and on reflex looks up to find the lemur wrapped around the firebender’s head, his tiny hands delicately picking through the dark hair, his tail gently curling around the pale neck. The expression on the firebender’s face is… the only word Katara can think of is _charmed_.

“That’s Momo,” Aang says. “He likes it when you scratch him under his chin or behind his ears.”

The older boy does so, his expression so utterly adoring that Katara expects him to start cooing at any moment. Instead, Momo purrs in delight and folds himself into a lemur-loaf in the firebender’s lap. The smile on the firebender’s face grows, and he starts stroking a hand down Momo’s back in time with his own deep and even breaths. Momo _melts_ , his purring ratcheting up in volume and his little furry body going completely limp.

“Whoa, how are you doing that?” Aang whispers, his stormy eyes huge. The firebender smiles gently, and keeps petting Momo with one hand while reaching out slowly and placing the other on top of Aang’s bald head.

Aang’s sharp gasp nearly makes Katara water whip the ash-maker right out of the saddle, but when it immediately resolves into Aang’s distinctive belly-laugh, she stays her hand.

“It’s so warm!” He chortles, as the firebender’s large hand gently rubs along his arrow. “Are you firebending? Can you teach me?”

The firebender holds up one finger and nods, then holds up two fingers and shakes his head.

“Why not?” Aang doesn’t whine, but it’s a close thing, and honestly Katara feels like doing so herself. What’s the point of having a Firebending Master in the group if he won’t teach the Avatar firebending?

The Firebending Master in question gives Aang a quelling look, then gestures to his mouth like he’s holding it shut. Then he makes a short series of movements with his hands that Katara can’t make heads or tails of.

Aang seems to get the picture though, because he deflates like a squeezed waterskin. “Oh, yeah,” he says dejectedly. “The no talking thing. I can see how it’d be hard to learn firebending when I don’t understand your language.”

The firebender gently flicks the point of Aang’s arrow, causing him to giggle, then begins scribbling on the scroll, leaning over Momo in his lap to write against the floor of the saddle. Katara goes back to her mending, somewhat assured that they’re safe enough with the firebender for now. Beside her, Sokka snores. If nothing else, Katara can take comfort in the knowledge that Sokka wouldn’t be asleep if he didn’t feel safe.

They make camp that night beside a clear, fast moving stream, and Katara has to admit that having a firebender around could actually be pretty useful—he gets the campfire going in seconds with a quick punch, he’s a _much_ better hunter than Sokka, and he can get jerky dried and packed in less than an hour. Katara samples a little bit, just to make sure it’s actually edible, and is shocked at how much flavor it has despite not having been touched by any of the salt that was in their supplies. Sokka tries some and nearly eats the entire bag before he can be pinned long enough to get the bag away from him.

Sokka shows off his boomerang, and the firebender his huge sword which somehow turns into _two_ swords, and Aang shows off his glider skills which prompts a chase through the trees surrounding their campsite as the firebender jumps effortlessly from one branch to another. Their antics allow Katara some peace and quiet to finish her mending and practice waterbending. She’s gotten the water whip down, and now she’s working on forming ice consistently. Sometimes she gets it and sometimes she doesn’t, and it gets on her nerves that it’s so tricky. For whatever reason, it’s easier to do at night.

The boys return from playing as dinner finishes, and Katara hands out bowls of jerky on noodles, with just noodles and some wild vegetables for Aang. The firebender bows when she gives him his bowl, and after taking a few bites, he digs through the sack of supplies he’d brought and comes up with a massive paper packet. He tears open a corner and sprinkles some kind of bright red powder all over the contents of his bowl, then pinches and folds the packet closed and stirs his food vigorously with his chopsticks. The noodles take on a pinkish hue, and after another taste, the firebender grins and starts eating with gusto.

Katara is speechless with outrage. How _dare_ that _ash-maker_ insult her cooking! Sokka’s eyes are wide and he has noodles hanging from his mouth. Even Aang is cringing a little, and Katara remembers him saying he had friends all over the world before the war.

“Uh, Zuko?” Aang says cautiously. The firebender looks up curiously and immediately goes pale at the sight of Katara’s face, which really must be something fearsome if the heat in her cheeks is anything to go by. “Yeah… you did something… _really really_ rude in Water Tribe culture… sorry, I should’ve warned you… you can’t… put stuff on food after you get it… it’s _super_ insulting to the cook.”

The firebender looks absolutely stricken, staring at Katara with wide eyes. Then he bows deeply, and comes back up rubbing a circle on his chest over and over.

_Why does he look so afraid?_ Katara wonders, and it’s hard to hold on to her anger in the face of such obvious distress. It had been a mistake, one made in ignorance, and she really has no right to be as angry as she _wants_ to be.

“It’s okay, Zuko,” she says, and forces herself to smile when he looks up at her. He doesn’t look very reassured, and makes the circle against his chest twice more.

“If that means _sorry_ , then I forgive you,” she says. She takes a deep breath, lets her hurt feelings flow away on the tide, and when she smiles again, it doesn’t feel forced. “I understand that you didn’t know, and I’m sorry for assuming that you would. Next time, you can show me what you want me to add to your bowl, and after that you can just ask.”

The firebender, Zuko, smiles suddenly, bright as the sun, and tips the fingers of one hand, palm up, from his chin to her.

"Does that mean _thank you_?" Katara asks, and after Zuko nods, replies, "You're welcome."

Sokka leans forward and grabs the huge packet from where it sits on the ground beside Zuko, and opens it up to take a sniff. "What is this stuff, anyway?"

"Fire-chili powder, right?" Aang answers, glancing at Zuko for confirmation. At his nod, he continues, "It's SUPER spicy, and my friend Kuzon used to put it on everything. He was from the Fire Nation, too," he tells Zuko.

Sokka takes a pinch and sprinkles it on his tongue. Immediately his face and eyes turn red, and tears start streaming down his cheeks as he emits high pitched squeaks of pain. Katara uncorks her waterskin in alarm, but Aang only laughs and Zuko rolls his eyes and digs around through the supplies, coming up with another wrapped package. He opens it to reveal a loaf of bread, which he offers to Sokka. Her brother falls upon it like a ravening polar bear-dog, and before any of them can blink, the loaf is gone, and Sokka is panting like he'd just run from their home village to their nearest neighbor three days away.

" _Tui and La_ , Zuko, you just dumped a ton of that in your _food_!" Sokka gasps out, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. "You're absolutely nuts!"

Zuko only shrugs, and finishes his bowl of noodles. Katara goes back to her own bowl as well, and once everyone is finished, gets up to start collecting bowls to wash. However, as she reaches for Zuko's empty bowl, he easily plucks her own out of her hands with a smile. He points to her, and makes gesture like stirring a pot, then to himself, and holds up the bowl and pretends to be cleaning it.

"I cooked, so you'll wash up?" Katara asks hopefully, and Zuko beams and nods at her. "That's so nice of you, Zuko, thank you! It's nice to have _some_ kind of help around here!" She narrows her eyes at her useless brother and best friend, who are trying to get Momo to try some of Zuko's fire-chili powder. Zuko scowls, making him look rather terrifying in the flickering firelight, and snaps his fingers. Sokka looks up, pales at the look on Zuko's face, and hurriedly closes up the fire-chili packet and puts it with the rest of the cooking supplies. Aang looks confused until he looks at Zuko and grimaces at his expression.

Katara laughs, and digs out the sachet of seal blubber soap while Zuko takes the cooking pot off the fire with a rag and puts it to the side to cool. They head over to the stream together.

Katara watches as Zuko dips his hands into the stream, and steam starts to rise from the water as he starts scrubbing out the bowls. She's never seen firebending used so… innocuously, and she remembers Momo's delighted purrs as the firebender had stroked his back with unnaturally warmed hands. Gran-Gran's stories of waterbending had described the way it had been used for both fighting and for everyday things, but Katara had never thought to apply that logic to firebending as well. She still doesn't trust him, not yet, but…

"Zuko? I owe you an apology, too," she says quietly, dropping the water globe she'd been idly playing with as she'd been thinking and sitting down beside the older boy. From this angle she can't see the scar, and he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "I… didn't treat you very well when I realized that you're a firebender. It's just… a firebender killed my mother. In my house. It's not an excuse, but… it's hard, now, to see firebending as anything other than destructive. I was really scared when you burned that scroll in the saddle. But you're not like the rest of them, are you? You're different. I think… if you promise to be careful… I can try. To not be as scared."

Zuko finishes washing the bowls, laying them out on a cloth to dry, and turns to face Katara fully. He taps his scar, then holds out a hand and _wreathes_ it in flames.

The implication is clear, and Katara's throat goes dry. Zuko nods, expression grave, and then brings the fire closer to his face and flinches back dramatically.

Katara swallows hard, and croaks, "You're scared of your own element."

Zuko shrugs, and repeats the motion, but without the flinch.

"You were, but now you're not?"

Zuko nods, and banishes the flames with a wave of his hand, throwing them back into the semi-darkness.

They sit in silence together for a while, listening to the sounds of Sokka sharpening his boomerang and Aang playing with Momo.

"How did you stop being afraid?"

Zuko gives her a gentle smile, and writes in the sandy dirt, _Time, and someone patient to show me the true way._

Sokka calls out to them then, inviting them back to the campfire, and Zuko gathers up the bowls and cloth and heads back over. Katara stares at the writing in the sand for a moment more before wandering over to sit beside her brother. Sokka is filling a wide-eyed Zuko in on their adventures so far, his hands flying everywhere. Katara rolls her eyes as he adds sound effects to their run of the Fire Nation blockade.

“So now we’re on our way to the North Pole to find a Waterbending Master for these two,” he finishes. “You coming with?”

Zuko nods firmly, grabs a stick from the pile of kindling, and writes out, _I have useful intelligence about Fire Nation military movements in the Earth Kingdom, and as soon as Aang learns my hand-language, I can start his Firebending training. In exchange I would appreciate it if my status as a citizen of the Fire Nation in general and my status as a firebender in particular could be kept quiet. For obvious reasons, we’re not exactly popular in the free areas of the Earth Kingdom._ He shrugs sheepishly, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes.

Sokka nods. “Sounds reasonable to me,” he says. “Welcome to the group, Zuko!”

Aang’s grin takes up his whole face, and he cheers. “I can’t wait to start learning from you, Sifu Hotman!”

Zuko’s recoil at that nickname is a thing of beauty, and Katara can tell by the predatory gleams in the younger boys’ eyes that they will _never_ let it go.

Katara sits and lets the boys’ chatter and crackling of the campfire wash over her. She’s bone tired, probably still not 100% after that illness, and she’s thinking very seriously about heading off to bed when someone gently touches her hand. She turns to find Zuko looking at her gravely, and when he sees that he has her attention, makes a gesture with his hand: a fist with his pointer and middle fingers out straight, spreading and then closing over a lock of his long black hair.

“Do you want to cut your hair?” Katara asks. Zuko nods, and writes in the dirt with his stick.

_I am a traitor to my nation, technically, and so it’s not appropriate for me to wear a topknot. I will make the first cut, because that is a ritual, but can you help me neaten up afterwards?_

Katara can understand the importance of ritual, so she gets out her shears and follows Zuko back to the stream. He gathers his long hair into a low tail, takes a deep breath, and slices it clean through with a dagger. The remainder shadows his face as he drops the tail into the water.

Without a word, Katara goes to work with her shears, snipping at the remaining length until Zuko holds up a hand for her to stop. The result is a mop that covers his burned ear and with bangs long enough to flick over his scar if he so desired.

Zuko runs his fingers through his shortened hair, a sad but satisfied expression on his face. He turns to Katara, bows, and signs, _Thank you._

“You’re welcome,” Katara replies, returning the bow. “We should get some sleep.”

Zuko nods, touches the fingertips of one hand to his bottom lip, then sort of glides it over his other hand held horizontally in front of him, just above his chest.

“Er… goodnight?”

Zuko beams, and repeats the sign. Katara copies him, and they retreat to their bedrolls.

Katara’s last thought before sleep claims her is _He’s not so bad, for a firebender._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed! Also, we've closed the first time-skip!
> 
> Next Week: **Perspective**


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